Irrevocable
by Evil Maro
Summary: Harry was captured by the Dark Lord at the Department of Mysteries but has no memory of the events that transpired. Follow Harry as he unearths the dark truth of his captivity, all the while struggling to distinguish truth from lies. No Pairings.
1. Mysteries

**Irrevocable**

**Chapter One: Mysteries**

"Stupefy!" I yelled, knowing that yelling didn't particularly help, yet not really having a better idea. A jet of red light escaped my wand and shattered against the Death Eater's shield. The Death Eater grinned and fired a Reductor curse at the desk I was sheltering behind. Now helpfully covered in wood splinters, I dived behind another desk and fired an _Incendio_ at the hem of his robes hoping for a lucky hit. No such luck; it dissipated against his shield like a wave against a cliff.

The Death Eater was toying with me and there was nothing I could do about it. Laughter surrounded me. I chanced a glance around the room and saw that Hermione and Ginny were on the floor, only unconscious I hoped. The only Death Eater in the room was currently approaching the latest desk I'd decided to take refuge behind, probably deciding which curse he should use to destroy my cover this time; obviously it wouldn't be very stylish to use the same spell over and over again. Even Death Eaters had class, after all.

Without giving the Death Eater time to make up his mind, I fired two stunners and bolted for the door, keeping a shield up as I ran. Fortunately the Death Eater wasn't willing to use any fatal curses lest he damage the prophecy globe nestled safely in my left hand. Two such non-fatal curses battered my shield; it held but vibrations jarred my arm shoving me against a wall. I continued to run, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I reached the circular room and slammed the door behind me, breathing heavily with sweat dripping down my face. The room started to spin; I used the brief moment of respite to catch my breath. Too quickly, the room ceased spinning and one of the doors immediately opened. A bright, pure light blazed through the opening silhouetting a small, hooded figure walking through purposefully. The figure was wearing Death Eater Robes, bloodied and torn; it wasn't the Death Eater who had been chasing me before. I didn't recognise him as one of the Death Eaters who had originally ambushed us; they must have bought reinforcements. I fired another ineffectual stunner. It was effortlessly deflected, into the ceiling. The figure looked at me, pityingly and almost carelessly flicked his wand. I raised a shield, ready. I found myself being hurled across the room, shield and all; I couldn't even shield against their spells. I skidded along the floor, and decided to run again. All I could do was run.

I wrenched open the door I was nearest to, and dived forward. The Death Eater wasn't shooting spells anymore; he was toying with me. I ran along a corridor and down a set of stairs, my shield up but still no curses coming my way. The figure didn't seem to be following me, I must have lost him. I looked forward and saw a black veil in the centre of the room, atop a dais. There were no doors. I was at a dead end.

It was hopeless; I'd lead my friends into a trap and myself into a room with no exit, no escape. The subtle warmth of the prophecy in my hand failed to reach beyond the tips of my fingers. I walked up to the veil hoping to use it as some kind of cover or to hind behind it, anything.

No sooner had I reached the veil than Death Eaters began streaming in through the only door, surrounding me with wands aimed but no curses flying. I counted six. I didn't see the smaller one from the circle room, the others must be elsewhere. I stood fast, my wand ready, but I knew it was useless. I couldn't even duel one Death Eater, what could I do against six?

"Hand over the prophecy, Potter." It was Lucius; I'd recognise the Malfoy drawl anywhere. I could see his hard, grey eyes through his white mask.

"I'll hand it over if you promise my friends will be allowed to leave." I sounded so pathetic and I knew it. What else could I do?

"Your friends can leave if you give me the prophecy...you have my word." Malfoy replied. I could see him sneering under the mask. His wand was held lazily in his hand, arrogantly.

A gross, disturbing cackling sound erupted from one of the other Death Eaters. It was Bellatrix. The cold cruel laughter chilled me to my bones; it was the stuff nightmares were made of.

My grip on the prophecy loosened, my resolve was weakening. There wasn't anything I could do. At least this way I could get a quick death, and Lucius might even keep his word. My friends didn't deserve to die.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud, violent explosion at the base of Lucius' feet. I stared in shock as his body comically hurtled through the air and made a sickening crunching sound when it collided against the far wall. I looked up the steps for the source of the curse and my heart lifted when I saw him.

Sirius Black walked down the stairs, framed against the entranceway, seemingly in slow motion. His eyes were alight with excitement, and his mouth was already forming the words of his next curse, his wand trained on Bellatrix now.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I aimed my wand at one of the two larger Death Eaters who was turning to face Sirius and fired a stunner. The spell hit his unprotected back and he fell forward, unconscious. His friend turned around before I could fire another and was looking at the unconscious form with, I assume, shock.

The shock quickly gave way to rage and I leaped back behind the veil as several brightly coloured beams of light veered towards me. Chips of stone rained onto me as some of the spells hit the sides of the veil, the rest merely went through the veil not coming out of the other side.

I looked round and saw Sirius was still busily duelling with Bellatrix. The large Death Eater was lumbering towards me, clumsily jabbing his wand in my direction. I fired off a few return shots but they dissipated against his shield. He was by far the weakest of the Death Eaters I'd encountered yet he could still shield against my most powerful curses. The other two Death Eaters were seemingly unwilling to interfere with the cousins' duel and were also heading towards me from the side, apparently in an attempt to flank.

There was a lull in the cursing when the larger Death Eater slowed down, apparently to catch his breath. I fired back a disarming charm followed by a stunner, hoping to catch him off his guard, but they still bounced harmlessly off his shield. In my haste to take advantage, one of the flanking Death Eaters hit me in the left arm with a cutting curse. I gritted my teeth as blood flowed down my arm, still managing to keep a grip on my wand and the prophecy. The burst of pain made me seethe with anger and I fired an _Impedimenta _at the large Death Eater, pushing my pain into the spell. Miraculously the curse shattered through his shield and knocked him onto his back. I quickly fired a stunner at the prone form and retreated back behind the veil, the prophecy globe now slick with blood.

I continued to play peak-a-boo with the two approaching Death Eaters for the next thirty seconds or so, trying to keep them from reaching the veil but never really having any hope. I was praying that Sirius would be able to defeat Bellatrix and come to my aid. The bottom dropped out of my stomach when I saw one of Bellatrix's red stunners penetrate Sirius' shield, striking him cleanly in the chest. His face held an expression of shock as he fell backward; I traced his fall, unable to help. Pinned behind the two Death Eaters I watched him fall to the floor in despair. Bellatrix looked up at me, grinning maliciously. She called for the two Death Eaters to stop making their way towards me; they complied, leering at me.

Bellatrix pointed her wand, almost caringly at Sirius unconscious form and summoned his wand. She used his own wand to revive, silence and bind him in thick ropes. She was laughing all the time, sparing a wide smile at me every few moments. I felt sick.

Sirius looked at me, he was shaking his head; I didn't know what he was trying to communicate to me. There were tears in his eyes. It was my fault.

"Crucio!"

The room filled with yellow light as Bellatrix cursed Sirius, laughing now. I looked away; I couldn't stand to watch.

After about thirty seconds she lifted the curse. I was shaking, there was nothing I could do.

I tried firing a stunner at her, it missed. She just laughed, teasingly. There was now a pool of blood on the floor beneath me and I was beginning to feel dizzy from blood loss. I didn't even know how to seal the would on my arm.

"Give me the prophecy, Potter," Bellatrix demanded, no longer laughing.

"Crucio!"

The curse lasted for about five seconds before I gave in, I couldn't let it happen.

"Alright," I yelled "Stop. You can have it...just let him go." I had surrendered, there was nothing else to do. She could torture Sirius into insanity and it wouldn't make a difference.

"Aww, Potter. You want your dear godfather to be allowed to leave? I'll stop it if you do as I ask. Now drop your wand," Bellatrix demanded, still cursing Sirius.

I dropped my wand, desperate for her to drop the curse. Sirius was jerking around uncontrollably, unable to utter a scream. My wand cluttered to the ground loudly, the sound echoed around the chamber mockingly. Bellatrix lowered the curse, but kept her wand trained on Sirius.

One of the nearby Death Eaters summoned my wand.

"Good, Potter. Now see how Aunty Bella rewards good behaviour" she called, gleefully.

She looked down at Sirius, her features etched with malice.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The room flashed with green light as the jet escaped Bellatrix's wand and rushed towards Sirius. His chest glowed green for a second as the curse struck, his eyes wide as his body slacked.

I felt the prophecy wrenched from my grasp, summoned towards Bellatrix, but I couldn't really see. There were tears in my eyes and my ears were buzzing, I wanted to hurt her, tear her limb from limb. I looked up at her, needing my wand, any wand. I would make her pay.

She gazed at me, for once looking serious.

"And now, Potter, for your reward."

Her wand was levelled at me, I ceased to care. My only regret was that I wouldn't get my revenge. I didn't even care about my friends. At least death would be quick.

Light erupted from her wand. It wasn't green, but red. Shit.

* * *

I felt groggy. What little I could see was blurry. I _hate _being stunned. I felt for my glasses, found them on the soft, damp floor. I slipped my glasses on. I was lying in a freshly mowed field. My wand was to my right, lying on the dewy grass. The sun was just rising over the horizon; the yellow light was streaming through the low clouds illuminating the sky in a brilliant red aura. I felt strangely empty.

I grasped my wand; warmth spread through my fingers and into my body. It didn't relieve the emptiness.

I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled forwards. The wet grass lightly gave way beneath my bare feet, tickling the sides of my toes. Where were my shoes? Better yet: Where was I?

The last thing I could remember was the Department of Mysteries...being stunned by Bellatrix. Sirius was dead. For some reason I couldn't make myself care. It was as if he had always been dead. Or, perhaps, as if he had never been alive. I remembered my friends; I'd left them in the Department of Mysteries with six Death Eaters. I found myself not being altogether that concerned; they'd followed me willingly, I even told them not to.

How did I get here?

Bellatrix had stunned me, why would she leave me alone in an empty field with my wand? It made no sense.

I walked towards a row of hedges bordering the field, wincing slightly as pebbles cut into the soles of my feet. It looked like there was a road ahead, behind the bushes. The stones were irritating me, my feet were already sore. I wanted to get to the road. Instinctively, I spun on the spot, thinking of the bushes ahead. I felt like I was being compressed, squeezed. I wasn't worried, it felt natural. A second later it was over; I was standing just in front of the bushes.

I had just apparated!

I didn't know how I'd done it, it wasn't taught until sixth year and I'd definitely never done it before; I didn't even know the process. I tried to remember _learning _to apparate. I drew a blank, a strange irritating buzzing sound where I felt the memory should be.

I tried to apparate to Hogwarts; I imagined Hogwarts in my mind and spun on the spot. Nothing happened. I remembered Hermione mentioning, repeatedly, that one couldn't apparate to Hogwarts directly, so I tried to apparate to Hogsmeade. Again, nothing happened. It seemed it only worked as a subconscious, instinctive process. I didn't particularly feel like trying to trick my already stupefied brain into apparating to Hogsmeade, so I resumed my previous plan of walking along the road hoping to either find a settlement of some kind or come across a Muggle car.

After wandering for what felt like half an hour or so I stumbled upon an old country cottage, complete with wonky walls and thatched roof. I opened the front gate with a loud squeak. I looked around nervously. No one seemed to have noticed. I approached the front door, going round the 4x4, and knocked loudly three times; there was no door bell. I waited a good minute but there was no answer. I peeked through the windows I could reach, there seemed to be no one inside, no lights on. Sighing, I drew my wand from my back pocket, idly wondering what Mad-Eye Moody would have said if he'd seen me stashing my wand in my back pocket, and pointed it at the front door.

"Reducto!" I shouted, hoping the spell would manage to break down the rather thick looking door.

I could feel the energy going out of my body, through my arm, down my fingertips and into my wand, it _oozed_ out fluidly, pleasurably almost. I struggled to control it, not entirely sure that I _should_ be controlling it.

The spell erupted out of my wand and impacted the door with a terrific boom, effectively disintegrating the centre panel. The remainder was blasted backwards with the force of a small cannon leaving a cracked and skewed doorframe in its wake.

I could hear the echoing of the explosion reverberating around the house and bouncing off the trees.

"Oops," I said, wincing.

I checked along the road again, but no one seemed to be coming.

Wand still out, I stepped across the threshold into the house. There was a small entrance corridor immediately in front of the door, well lit by natural light and tastefully furnished in a traditional rural style. I headed towards what looked like the living room; there was a three-piece suit with a fair sized television opposite. I was hoping to find a telephone, although I hadn't quite thought through who I was going to phone. I didn't think the Dursleys would react well to a phone call at god knows whatever time requesting a lift from some random house in the countryside I'd broken into by blowing up the front door. Fortunately, I was spared this particular conversation by the owner of said house coming down the stairs into the lounge. Unfortunately said owner happened to be holding a loaded shotgun.

"Who the 'ell are you?"

The owner of the house didn't seem particularly impressed by what I'd done to his front door. His leathery, potholed face was wearing an expression of righteous anger. He would have intimidated me had he not been a stupid gun-toddling Muggle.

"Umm, Hi. I don't suppose I could borrow the phone?" I was trying to be polite, I really was. Again, the man didn't seem impressed.

"You what? You stay the fuck over there whilst I phone the god damned police! Don't move unless you want a chest full of lead." Crap. He was definitely not impressed. He had his shotgun pointed at my chest whilst he edged towards where I now saw the phone was on the mantelpiece.

"Hey! Wait! You can't! Stop!" I really, really couldn't have him calling the police.

I raised my wand at this point, hoping to simply stun the man. Unfortunately the shotgun wielding idiot decided that the teenager holding a wooden stick was a clear and present danger and made to fire his shotgun. I instinctively raised a shield expecting the pellets to harmlessly bounce off. Instead they passed through the shield as if it wasn't there and caught my left shoulder, spinning me round and causing no small amount of pain. Apparently _protego_ shields didn't work on physical objects. I really wish one of the idiots who'd taught Defence Against the Dark Arts over the years had mentioned this.

The large chunk missing from my shoulder must have caused my body to go into shock because I erupted in laughter, raising my wand again as the humour gave way to fury.

The idiot with the gun stepped back looking scared. It was either because the blue-ish shield which had materialised in front of him, or the fact that he'd just shot a teenager point blank with a shotgun and he'd just laughed. Maybe it was both.

Furious adrenaline coursed through my veins and I flicked my wand, banished his shotgun to the far side of the room. Unsatisfied I jabbed it in the bastard's direction muttering a curse I instinctively seemed to know. A roar of fire erupted from my wand and seared towards the man, who was blasted backwards into the stairs, simultaneously setting fire to the carpet and the man's clothes. Gaining control of myself, I lowered the curse and put out the fire. For some reason the sight of the burned man's face didn't really bother me.

I checked the man's pulse anyway; I didn't want to be arrested for murder. Fortunately he seemed to be alive, although it'd take a lot of work to restore his face. I then glanced at my shoulder; it was totally wrecked. Blood was cascading out of it and I could see bone through the tangle of wrecked flesh. I was pretty sure it should have hurt a lot more than it was and that I should have been unconscious by now. Worried about passing out from blood loss and not knowing any healing spells, I walked into the kitchen area and wrapped several tea towels around my shoulder as best I could. The pain still wasn't really bothering me.

I walked back into the living room after clearing myself up, stepped over the burnt Muggle unconcernedly, and towards the telephone he had been in the process of reaching toward. I scratched my head for a few seconds, trying to decide what the best course of action was. I hadn't ever heard of a muggle telephone number for either the Ministry of Magic or Hogwarts. Perhaps if I just asked the operator for the Ministry of Magic they might oblige, but I wasn't too optimistic.

It was at this point that I heard several distinctive pops coming from just outside the front of the house. Cautiously I raised my wand once more and leaned into the wall, carefully making my way towards the front of the house.

"Ministry of Magic! Come out with your wand lowered," boomed a voice from outside.

I inched towards one of the front windows and peered outside. There were five Aurors crouched around the 4x4, wands pointed towards the front door. I guessed they must have detected the magic use in a muggle residence.

"It's Harry Potter, I'm coming out now..." I called out, hoping they wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later. The tea towels on my shoulder were now deep red, fully saturated with blood and were dripping steadily on the floor.

The Aurors didn't respond so I walked slowly towards the door, with my wand relaxed at my side. As I cleared the threshold of the door, I could see the Aurors more clearly; I recognised the Auror nearest the door. It was Kingsley.

"H- Harry? What the hell are you doing here? Where have you been?" Kingsley uttered in shock as I walked out of the door, his wide eyes taking in the state of my shoulder.

"Umm, I'm not sure. I woke up in a field just down the road," I replied "Do y'think you could get me to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts? I kind of hurt my shoulder."

"Hurt?" Kingsley's eyes bulged "What did you do? It looks like someone tried to blast it-"

"Do you know for sure this is Harry Potter, Kingsley? It could be a trap." One of the other Aurors interrupted.

"It's definitely Harry, Burke." Kingsley responded, quickly. "I'd recognise him a mile off."

"Uh, a shotgun. The muggle in the house shot me when I broke in to try and use the phone," I replied, trying to steer the conversation back towards getting me to somewhere where I could get my shoulder fixed.

"Right, we'll sort this out later. Burke, apparate back to headquarters and inform the Minister that Harry's been found. Harry, did you stun the Muggle?"

Burke promptly dissaparated with a loud 'pop'.

"Not exactly- after he shot me I panicked and kind of set fire to the room, I think he got burned," I replied, "he was alright when I checked him a minute ago though," I added upon seeing the shocked look on Kingsley's face. He seemed to relax upon hearing I hadn't burnt the Muggle to death.

"Alright, Harry, don't worry about it for now. I'll apparate you to St Mungo's. Armtell, Simmons, check out the house. Make sure he gets to St Mungo's and inform the Obliviators and Reversal Squad. Harrison, go to Hogwarts would you and inform Professor Dumbledore Harry's been found? He'll want to inform his guardians that he's alive and well," Kingsley instructed, business-like once more.

One of the Aurors dissaparated whilst two of his peers entered the house, wands first. I walked over to Kingsley, blood still dripping from my arm but not feeling particularly dizzy.

When the remaining two Aurors were out of earshot Kingsley looked at me closely.

"Harry, where have you been? No one who was at the Department of Mysteries with you had any idea where you were." At my questioning look he added, "they're all alive thankfully, it's a bit of a mystery how to be honest. But we've had the Aurors out looking for you for two weeks with no sign. And where are your shoes?" Kingsley was now glancing with some curiosity at my bare feet.

It'd been two weeks since I was at the Department of Mysteries? What the hell?

The shock I was feeling must have registered on my face because Kingsley grabbed hold of my good arm.

"Never mind that now, we'll sort it out at Mungo's. You don't look in the best of shape. Hold on tight, now."

For the second time that day I felt the strange sensation of being squished into a tube and whisked along the British countryside.


	2. Catching Up

**Chapter Two: Catching Up**

I arrived with a _pop_ in a circular white room, Kingsley at my side still gripping my good arm. There were two Aurors standing guard beside the only door leading out of the room, eyes hard and wands ready. I immediately pulled my arm out of Kingsley's grasp; I didn't need his help to stand. Kingsley strode forward confidently, nodding at the two Aurors who lowered their wands. I fell into step a few paces behind, looking at the floor trying to avoid the stares of the passing witches and wizards.

We walked along the dull white corridor in silence, rows of closed doors on both sides, until we reached a reception desk. A young witch with blonde hair was sat on a chair behind the desk, quill out and busily scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"Hi Katherine. I need a secure room and a senior healer for Mr Potter here, please," Kingsley said quickly, "also, could you get in contact with the D.M.L.E and have them send over a protection team for the time being? Thanks"

The witch nodded, with her eyes slightly wide, and began studiously looking over one of her pieces of parchment. Her mannerisms reminded me distinctly of Hermione. With a slight start I realised I had no idea how Hermione was, or any of the others for that matter. All Kingsley had said was that they were still alive. I hadn't even bothered to check how badly they were injured.

"Room 7 is free. It's just down the corridor, 3rd on the left. I'll send Healer Roberts there, he should be free." she said, her eyes now lingering on my forehead.

Kingsley nodded his thanks and begun walking along the corridor, gesturing for me to follow. I complied, staying about two paces behind. My arm wasn't bleeding anymore; the tea towel I'd used to bandage it had apparently stemmed the flow of blood.

We reached the room in question, and Kingsley pushed open the door and directed me to the only bed in the room whilst sitting down in a chair positioned next to the door. He calmly drew his wand and kept it to hand, seemingly ready to leap into action at a moment's notice.

"Kingsley, what happened at the Department of Mysteries? The last thing I remember is being stunned by Bellatrix," I asked, trying not to let the mild panic I felt show.

"You were stunned by Bellatrix Legrange?" he looked troubled, "Severus sent word to Headquarters as soon as he realised you had gone to the Department. Unfortunately, Sirius was the only person in Headquarters at that time; he immediately summoned aid before Flooing there himself. We got together as many people as we could and arrived there about ten minutes later. We found Sirius' body in the Death Room and those of your friends who were still able to walk were frantically searching for you. That was a little over two weeks ago... You really don't remember anything since then?"

"What date is it?" The panic was probably entering my voice now. Having lost nearly two weeks of time was seriously off-putting.

"Today's date is the fifth of July," came a familiar voice from the door. I looked up, slightly irritated, to the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore. At his side was a middle-aged man in green robes, who I assumed was Healer Roberts.

"Harry, I'm relieved to see that you're alright. I've been informed that you're miraculous appearance was not without mishap, however; further questioning can wait until you've been healed, yes?"

I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak to him. I felt irrationally angry with him but I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because Sirius had died. I didn't think it had quite settled in yet; there was a hollow part of me where I felt sure there should be grief, pain, anger...something.

Healer Roberts approached my bed and was peering at my shoulder, Kingsley and Dumbledore were having what looked like a rushed conversation just outside the door.

"Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing at my impromptu bandage.

"Sure," I replied, wincing as he slowly un-wrapped my shoulder.

I looked on with detached curiosity as the healer _scourgified_ my shoulder to remove the dried blood revealing that a chunk of flesh was missing, now scabbed over. It didn't look pretty.

"How long ago did this happen?" the healer asked in confusion.

"About half an ago, give or take" I said, still peering at my shoulder.

"Well, this is odd. It seems to have completely scabbed over; it's not bleeding. This was caused by a muggle shotgun?"

I nodded, personally feeling quite happy my body was no longer leaking.

The healer made a strange _hrmmm_ noise that only those in the medical profession seemed capable of making, before prodding my shoulder gently with his wand immediately making it go numb.

"Perhaps the wound was cauterised by the heat from the weapon. I must admit to not having dealt with too many muggle weapon injuries, although one would expect a cauterisation to leave burns as well. No matter though; you're extremely fortunate you didn't lose consciousness due to blood loss. I'll have to put you to sleep whilst we remove the pellets and apply some flesh-regrowing potions. After that a simple course of rejuvenation potions should suffice. You're fortunate muggle inflicted injuries are relatively simple to fix, having said that, try not to get yourself shot again; I honestly have no idea how you remained standing after being shot at such close range."

"I'll try to avoid it in future, sir" I said, playing the part of the obedient schoolboy.

Dumbledore has re-entered the room and was looking at me curiously but remaining silent.

"Good. I'll just put you to sleep and have your shoulder fixed in no time. Lie down, please."

I complied. Roberts waved his wand over my face in smooth, circular motions and I found myself drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

I opened my eyes, I felt groggy. I was lying on a stone floor and there was a kink in my back. Strangely my right arm arched; it was my left shoulder that got shot. I looked around, everything was blurry. I found my glasses by my right hand and slipped them on. I sat up and looked around. I was in a large cavernous room. I couldn't see my wand. It was dark and gloomy.

There was a large winged chair ahead with a light behind it; I got up walked towards it listening for any sounds of movement. The stone floor was cold against my feet; I didn't have my shoes anymore. The pattering noise my feet made against the stone echoed around the room eerily.

The relative silence was punctuated by a cold laugh. The winged chair slowly swung round uncovering the bright light behind it, momentarily dazzling me. After a few seconds of staggering in panic I could see the silhouette of a tall shape in front of the chair through the blinding light. The figure's eyes were glowing red, looking directly at me.

The icy voice cut right into my soul.

"Welcome, Harry Potter."

* * *

I awoke with a start. I was lying on a soft bed and my right arm ached now. I could see fine; there was a soft, white light above me. I was still sweating from the nightmare and the sheets felt slightly damp. Kingsley was in quiet discussion with Dumbledore on a sofa beneath a large window I hadn't noticed before. In the seat Kingsley was previously occupying sat Ron, his arms both bandaged. Hermione was pacing backward and forward just in front of the door seemingly unhurt. I glanced at my shoulder; it was now properly bandaged. I tried to move my left arm and was rewarded with a short stab of pain, but at least I could move it now.

"Harry!" Ron called, my movement seemingly having attracted his attention. Kingsley and Dumbledore ceased their conversation and looked at me as Ron ran over, grabbing me in a hug.

"It's great to see you mate! Where have you been?"

Grunting as Ron stupidly grabbed my injured arm I shoved him off.

"Hey Ron, watch the arm mate?"

"Ah, sorry. Kingsley said a muggle got you with one of their gun thingies," Ron said, seeming genuinely sorry. I didn't get the impression his apology would prevent it from happening again in the future.

"Yeah. The bastard didn't want to let me borrow his ph-"

"Harry! Watch your language," Hermione interrupted. It was good to hear her voice, even if it was whining at me.

"Hey Hermione, how've you been?"

"How have I been? How have I been? Harry, you've been missing two weeks!" Hermione looked to be on the verge of tearing her hair out and her voice was steadily raising in pitch.

"Yeah, that's what I've been told. Unfortunately I don't actually remember anything,"

"You mean you've been memory charmed?"

"I don't know Hermione, if I'd been memory charmed I wouldn't remember now would I?" I replied scathingly. It really was a pretty stupid question.

"That's true," Hermione continued, "but I bet there's a way of finding out if you've been given a memory charm and lifting it. I bet there's a whole section on memory modification in the library..."

I could practically see the part of her brain labelled 'Research' blinking away like a Christmas fairy on crack.

Resisting the urge to inform Hermione of my Christmas fairy theory, I looked up at Dumbledore who was looking at my eyes intently. I felt a small push at the front of my mind and instinctively pushed it back. Was he using legilimency on me? The look of mild surprise on his face seemed to indicate that yes, he was.

"Harry, I'm pleased to inform you that the repair work to your shoulder was completely successful. On the other hand, this matter of your missing memory does cause me some concern. Is there nothing you can tell us about the night you lead your friends to Department of Mysteries after you were sighted running into the Circle room?"

Dumbledore seemed to have given up reading my mind and instead reverted to the tried and tested method of asking me questions. I wasn't sure why I found him so irritating, but I tried to suppress it. He was probably trying to make me feel guilty by reminding me _I _had lead my friends to the Department but it wasn't working; my conscience was clean...relatively.

"I got cornered in the Death Room- I think that's what Kingsley called it. A few Death Eaters came in and I tried to duel them, but I couldn't really fight them off. Then Sirius appeared. He knocked Lucius Malfoy out and was duelling Bellatrix. She managed to defeat him. She used the Cruciatus curse on him until I surrendered my wand, then she killed him. I think she stunned me after that." My voice didn't shake. I didn't find myself being angry or upset over what happened; I had accepted it.

Dumbledore looked old, his eyes had a slightly deadened look about them. Hermione had her hand covering her mouth in horror, Ron simply looked dumbfounded. Kingsley was staring at the floor. I was the only one seemingly unfazed by it.

"I'm so very sorry you had to experience that Harry. No one should ever have to witness such cruelty. I feel I quite badly failed you last year and I shall work hard to make up for my past mistakes. I promise you, Harry, next year I shall take a more personal role in your education. I have many things I have to explain to you."

"Thank you, Sir" I still couldn't seem to make myself care. The part of me that made me care about all these things seemed to be missing. Nothing mattered anymore and I didn't know why.

"A matter of some concern is what took place in your memory blank. It would appear that you were captured, and somehow escaped sometime earlier today. How you came to be memory charmed I do not know. Healer Roberts examined you whilst you were asleep and found no major damage other than the wounds inflicted by the muggle weapon. You were checked to determine if you were under the Imperius curse, we found evidence of its use on you but it seems to have been resisted. You also have traces of repeated Cruciatus curses; it would be logical to assume that you were tortured under Lord Voldemort's orders. How you came to escape is a most baffling enigma, but one for which I am eternally grateful."

In other words, Dumbledore didn't have a clue about anything.

"What about the Prophecy, Sir?" I at least wanted to know what all of the fighting was about.

"Ah, Harry. I shall explain that to you at the start of the next school year. It is a matter of the highest importance, but something for which you deserve to hear in private and a more comfortable setting. I assure you I will tell you everything. As for the prophecy globe which you gallantly attempted to stop Lord Voldemort from capturing, I'm afraid no trace of it has been found, so it must be assumed that Lord Voldemort managed to capture the Prophecy."

More assumptions, all he had were assumptions, guesses and hopes.

"Right." What more was there for me to say? I noticed a candle on my bedside table was leaving a circular pattern of coloured wax; blue concentric rings surrounding a green central circle. I was hypnotised by it, staring into the rings trying to discern some deeper meaning.

"Harry?" Shaken out of my reverie, I looked up at Dumbledore's face. "I have other news you should be made aware of. Yesterday, Lord Voldemort revealed himself to the Wizarding public by assassinating Minister Fudge in broad daylight during a press conference. The timing of your escape, coinciding with the aftermath of the Minister's murder is interesting, but I cannot fathom a link. You should be made aware that the current Interim minister is a man by the name of Rufus Scrimgeour. He is an ex-Auror and infinitely more suitable for the times at hand than the late Mr Fudge, however my sources tell me that he is moving, even now, to try and secure your endorsement in his new administration. I have no doubt he will try to meet with you at the earliest time possible and secure such an endorsement."

"Right."

Fudge was dead. Again, I didn't care. It wasn't as if I had ever hated the man, I found him frustrating and stupid, but I never would have wished for his death. My cruel detachment to the world was beginning to bother me on an intellectual level; it was unlike me, I knew. Perhaps something had happened during my capture to numb me to such trivialities as death.

Dumbledore seemed to be having similar thoughts; he was gazing at me with concern, perhaps wondering why I wasn't shaken by any of this news.

"I must say, Harry, you're taking this news extremely well. I can't pretend that the news of Fudge's death has been entirely for the worst. Now that the Wizarding public is aware of Lord Voldemort's return the Ministry can no longer deny it, and indeed Minister Scrimgeour would not wish to. I fear, however, that it is too late for the Ministry to halt Voldemort's return to power without sacrificing much of what we have rebuilt since his first downfall."

"What does Scrimgeour plan to do about it?" I asked, wondering whether this ex-Auror really meant business.

"Ah, that is the question. As I said, he has only held the interim post since yesterday. He has requested a meeting with me which I will attend later today. Naturally he has returned to me the position of Headmaster, as well as my roles within the judicial arm of our government. Within those roles I hope to advise him on the best method of countering Voldemort's machinations. I do intend to more fully discuss this with you when you have returned to Hogwarts next year. You see, the news of the battle at the Department of Mysteries was leaked to the press, and unfortunately now that Lord Voldemort's return is public, the press has put two and two together to make five, so to speak. Your importance to the Wizarding public as an icon is now greater than ever."

Dumbledore's words normally would have calmed me, but something caused me to distrust him. I was suspicious of his actions and mentally questioning his statements, looking for half-truths and outright lies. Something had changed.

"How long do I have to stay here?" I really didn't feel like spending weeks in bed, I was already getting bored of lying there.

"Your healing has been remarkably fast, Harry. If it was anyone but you I'd suspect they had been lying about being shot by a shotgun. You only need spend another two nights here to make sure there are no infections and to make sure is no hidden curse damage from your unexplained time away from us."

"Good. And after that?" I asked, desperately hoping that I wouldn't have to return to the Dursleys.

"Ah, I am sorry Harry but you will have to return to your Aunt's house for at least a couple of weeks. After that, I'm sure Mrs Weasley would be happy to have you stay over until the start of next term."

"Great, I'm sure the Dursleys will be happy to see me again, too," I said, not quite managing to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

Dumbledore sighed, once again showing his age. "I will try to keep your stay at your aunt's house as short as possible, Harry."

"Thanks." I said, not really meaning it.

"Well, I shall bid you farewell, Harry. I'm sure you, Ron and Hermione have a lot to catch up on. Do not hesitate to contact me if you remember anything further regarding your memory lapses. Good day." Dumbledore stood and walked out the door, nodding at Kingsley as he left.

"I also have to be getting back to the Ministry. Things are in uproar at the moment. There are two Aurors outside your door to make sure you don't have any unexpected guests. I shall probably see you at the Burrow at some point. I'm sorry about Sirius, Harry." Kingsley said, before getting out of his seat and following Dumbledore out the door.

My attention was once again drawn to the strange wax pattern on my bedside table. Something intrigued me about the pattern; it was important but I didn't know why. I could get lost in the concentric rings spiralling inwards...

"Harry!" It was Hermione. She was looking at me sharply, probably wondering why I was so easily distracted. She and Ron had approached my bed and were sitting on the side, both looking at me.

"Sorry. So, uh, what happened to you two at the Department of Mysteries? Kingsley mentioned you all got out okay."

"Ah, yeah, that's the thing Harry. I thought we were all goners. Neville, Luna and Hermione were still standing just about. I was kind of out-of-it after the brains attacked me and Ginny wasn't able to walk. We were cornered in this room trying to erect barricades but we were getting nowhere. The Death Eaters could easily deflect all our spells, we could barely block theirs and we were outnumbered. Honestly I thought we were all toast," Ron said soberly.

"Then someone appeared, Harry. It was pretty peculiar. We thought he was a Death Eater at first; at least he was wearing their robes. But he started cursing them, pretty dark stuff, too. The Death Eaters decided he was the bigger danger at that point and started trying to take him down, but he was just amazing. Used spells I've never even heard of before and was transfiguring and summoning stuff all over the place to block their curses. It was pretty impressive; I wish I knew half of the spells he was using," Hermione was jabbering away excitedly, "the strangest thing about him though was he looked about our age. I mean he was only slightly taller than I am. Much shorter than Ron. We couldn't see his face so we don't really know what to think. I suppose it's possible he was just a very short wizard- you could tell he was a wizard by his voice- but he just _seemed_ really young."

"Maybe it was Flitwick on stilts," I suggested, trying to cut short Hermione's ramble.

"Oh don't be silly, Harry! He was clearly a very powerful wizard and he saved all of our lives. And for some reason he let all of the Death Eaters go, too. He just knocked them around a bit then let them leave when they tried to run."

"Could it have been me? I mean I don't know any of that kind of magic, but I don't have any memory of that time, plus I'm about the right height." I knew it didn't make complete sense that it was me, but if it was then I could at least start together to piece together what had happened in the last two weeks.

"No Harry, it couldn't have been you. Your voice isn't as deep as his. And he appeared about the right time you were in the Death Chamber, you know, with Sirius." Hermione looked apologetic bringing this up. I didn't care.

I grunted and found my eyes wandering back over the strange wax pattern on my bedside table.

Hermione sighed loudly, whipped out her wand and _scourgified _the wax.

"Hermione! That was important" I didn't know why I said it almost as it left my mouth.

"What? That pile of wax was important?" Hermione was looking at me strangely.

"No, never mind. Forget it. So what happened after you were rescued by the mystery Death Eater?"

"Well, I did some quick first aid on Ron's arms- those brains left some pretty nasty welts that still haven't healed- and we checked on Ginny. She was alright but we couldn't wake her up. After we were sure those two were okay we went looking for you. We systematically went through all the doors we could get into coming from the circular room but we didn't find anything until we got the Death Chamber. We found...we found Sirius' body lying on the floor but there was no sign of you. At about that time the rest of the Order showed up. They sent us on to St Mungo's pretty much straight away, saying they'd continue to look for you, but they didn't find anything except some spell damage in the Death Chamber."

"What about after that? What happened at Hogwarts after we'd left?"

"Well, to be honest things were pretty messed up at Hogwarts. We were all in St Mungo's for the first night. Hermione, Luna and Neville went back the next morning and McGonagall was in charge of the school- she went back to Hogwarts as soon as word got out about what happened."

"Right," Hermione said, continuing from Ron, "and she took over in her capacity as Deputy Headmistress. Umbridge still hadn't returned from the Forbidden Forest and as Hagrid was still in hiding so there wasn't a great deal she could do. The Ministry was up in arms about what happened, they were threatening to put us on trial for trespassing and vandalising Ministry property, but apparently they couldn't get the charges to stick without incriminating several prominent families. McGonagall pretty much immediately disbanded the Inquisitorial Squad and set about trying to get Umbridge put on trial for threatening to put you under the Cruciatus curse but the Ministry was having none of it. It really is amazing how much the Minister controls the judicial system."

I could hear the intensely disapproving tones in Hermione's voice and was silently praying she wouldn't start a new club to promote introducing the concept of separation of powers to the Wizarding government. I was fairly certain the aristocracy wouldn't react well to having their powers curtailed.

"Anyway, eventually Umbridge made her own way out of the Forest but refused to talk about whatever happened to her. Personally I'm hoping there was a bit of bestiality involved," Ron said viciously, "McGonagall managed to keep things ticking over until the end of term; Umbridge wouldn't leave the Hospital Wing. We weren't allowed to speak with anyone about what had happened at the Ministry. You were officially declared a missing person, believe it or not. Fudge told the press you were unduly influenced by Dumbledore and had followed him into hiding or something. The story didn't make a lot of sense to tell you the truth. Things stayed pretty much the same after term ended, until Fudge was killed by You-Know-Who. Dumbledore came out of hiding with Hagrid and managed to convince the new Minister you'd been captured by You-Know-Who and actually had the Aurors _looking_ for you. And, then, well you know...you appeared," Ron finished lamely.

"Wait, people weren't even looking for me until yesterday?"

"Well, I think the Order had people out looking. But I don't think there's a lot they could do without the Ministry doing the real leg work. My dad came home muttering about Snape a few times. I reckon he wasn't lifting a bloody finger to help."

"Well, Fudge is gone now so hopefully the Ministry shouldn't be quite so useless."

"Harry, you shouldn't speak about the dead that way. It's disrespectful," Hermione said slowly. It looked like she was wondering if I'd damaged my head.

"Why? If there's some stupid form of afterlife then he's not really dead so I can insult the idiot all I like, and if there is in fact nothing after death then he won't know what I'm saying and neither will he care."

Hermione looked on the verge of arguing back but, ironically, Ron intervened trying to stop the argument.

"You'll never guess who Bill's dating, Harry!" He said excitedly.

"Charlie?"

The look on Ron's face was priceless.

"Well you said I'd never guess so I chose someone unlikely. So who is he dating?"

"Fleur," Ron replied, looking disgusted. I wasn't sure whether it was at the mental image of his two older brothers together or the thought of his oldest brother and Fleur.

"Really? Well, I suppose that's better than Charlie."

"I suppose that's true..."


	3. Dudley's New Diet

**Chapter Three: Dudley's New Diet  
**

"Did you never wonder why I supposedly offered to let your Mudblood mother live, Harry? You disappoint me...perhaps Severus was right after all..."

He was genuinely disappointed, and his red eyes were burrowing into mine, probing. I was sitting in a not uncomfortable chair unable to move. I could feel magic holding me down. I wasn't scared; I'd long since run out of fear. I wanted to reply but I couldn't; I couldn't open my mouth.

"Oh, Harry. You never presumed to understand one as dark and evil as I? How could someone as pure and righteous as you possibly empathise with one like me?"

He laughed, cold and high pitched. The sound echoed around the cavernous room. It was the room I had first seen him in. He was sitting in the winged chair above me, superior.

"Do you want the truth Harry? The truth is a glorious thing: absolute and beyond discussion, beyond the weak interpretation of mortals. I wish to share the truth with you, Harry, because I think you would understand it. I have seen into your mind and I see _great _potential. The great Lord Voldemort offers you one of the greatest gifts any wizard can offer another. And if you properly appreciate it, why, I may even offer you _the_ greatest thing a Wizard can offer another. It would be poor form of me not to return the gift, after all, Harry."

"The world is a complex thing, Harry. Good, evil, dark and light: these are adjectives to describe people, spells and actions used by the feeble minded to categorize and classify that which they do not understand. The world is not discrete Harry. It is a continuous, many dimensional thing, which above all, is plutocratic. The rule of the many by the few with wealth: wealth of possession, knowledge, charisma but most importantly of all magical power. You will be able to understand my past, my future and my present because you are wealthy, Harry. I will share with you the necessary knowledge to properly interpret it, and you will understand. You may even survive, if you are strong enough."

He smiled, cruel and unyielding.

"Now, I will show you what really happened to your parents, Harry. I believe that you will find yourself caring less about the truth once you know it. You will lose this immature fixation with the past and embrace the future. It is the only way that we grow up; you must walk out from beneath your parents' shadows. And by showing you their form, I will allow it to become possible. Look into my eyes, Harry, and see what your mentor kept from you."

I looked into his eyes, unable to disobey. I wasn't spelled, I was curious. I believed him. I gazed into the red glow and found myself pulled in, the red glow becoming the brilliant sunset over a hill of a Halloween night over a decade ago.

* * *

BANG!

I woke with a start. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my face, trying to muffle out the sound of Aunt Petunia bashing on the door to get me out of bed.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," I yelled at the door.

I only had a few more days before I'd be able to go to the Weasleys' for the rest of the holidays, but the Dursleys were being even more disagreeable than usual. Either that or I'd become less tolerant of their stupidities. It was a distinct possibility. When I'd arrived at the Dursleys a week earlier accompanied by Tonks, I'd flat out refused to put my Trunk under the stairs, going so far as to point my wand between the fat man's eyes. Tonks tried to defuse the situation but it had only been resolved when Vernon had agreed to allow me to keep my trunk, as long as there was no_ '_funny business'. It might have had something to do with the small burn mark I noticed on his forehead after I had removed the wand.

Unfortunately, the improved behaviour of the Dursleys had only lasted about an hour or so before they forgot their recently acquired manners. There wasn't a lot I could do about it without receiving a nasty letter from the Ministry about underage magic. I had briefly considered it, weighing up the likelihood that Scrimgeour would push it under the carpet in exchange for some face time with the Boy-Who-Lived on the front page of the prophet, but had decided that I didn't particularly feel like being blackmailed by the new Minister.

I slowly walked to my door and yanked it open, heading towards the bathroom. Going around the corner, I found the landing was blocked by the not-inconsiderable bulk of my cousin.

Considering him for a moment, I deemed him unworthy of my attention and made to step around him, eager to have my morning shower in peace.

This was my first mistake of that day. Instead of merely letting me travel around him, as any stupid Muggle with a wizard for a cousin would do, Dudley decided it would be prudent to punch me in the back of the head.

Seeing stars, and falling to the floor, I spun round snarling.

Instinctively I raised my hand, thinking _accio_. I was shocked to see my wand hurtling toward me from my bedroom towards my outstretched hand. Wandless summoning was a new trick for me.

Grabbing it out of the air with Seeker reflexes, I turned it on Dudley. The power I held over him was intoxicating. I remembered all the time he'd hit me, chased me and generally ruined my life.

"What'd you do that for Dudders?" I asked, my face adorned with a cruel smile.

"Y-you did magic! I'm telling Mum!" Dudley was looking at the wand in my hand with terror. At least he wasn't completely stupid.

"That's right Dudley. You remember that big man you met a few years ago? Gave you that delightful pig's tail?" I asked viciously, "Well I always felt a bit bad for him. You know, tried to do a charm and didn't quite manage to pull it off. It always seemed a bit sad really. I bet he was really broken up about it. I reckon It'd be awful nice of me to finish the charm off for him. You know, then he won't feel like quite so much as a failure of a wizard."

I gracefully rose to feet, my magic seemingly helping to push me up. The effect wasn't lost in Dudley. He seemed petrified.

I began waving my wand in an intricate, pointless pattern, enjoying the look of terror imprinted on his face. He would learn his lesson.

"MUM!" Dudley yelled, now stumbling backwards.

I couldn't have that.

I pointed my wand at Dudley and gave it a soft flick, unfamiliar Latin words racing through my head. With a soft _pop_ a pig appeared where Dudley had been standing a second before, complete with a pile of manure.

Momentarily shocked as to how I knew how to perform the transfiguration, I looked up to see Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon coming round the corner.

"What have you done, boy?" Uncle Vernon roared, looking at the pig in shock.

"I helped Dudders with his diet. I figure he's lost at least five stone," I replied, gesturing at the pig which was now waddling towards its parents.

"What? Put him right! You're going to be expelled for this!" Uncle Vernon screamed, spit flying from his mouth.

"I don't think so." I replied, oddly sure of myself.

I heard a loud knocking on the front door and decided to vacate the area before the Order arrived. One day I'd come back for my Aunt and Uncle.

Instinctively, I spun on the spot and dissaparated.

* * *

I appeared with a soft _pop_ in Diagon Alley, opposite Ollivander's. I hadn't consciously decided to apparate here; it had been instinctive. I now realised I was just wearing pyjamas and hurriedly transfigured them into robes before I attracted too much attention. I walked towards the Leaky Cauldron, planning to rent a room and get some food whilst waiting for the Ministry to catch up with me. They would have detected the spell use. The new Minister would probably forgive and forget in exchange for some political capital. I wasn't looking forward to having to deal with Dumbledore though.

The dreams I'd been having were troubling. They didn't unsettle me nearly as much as I thought they should. It seemed logical to suspect they were from the time I was captured; perhaps leaking out from a memory charm I was under. I wouldn't tell Dumbledore; I didn't trust him. It was an instinctive lack of trust which was new to me, as well as a rational analysis of what I now remembered. He was hiding something from me.

I was about ten paces from the front of the Leaky Cauldron when the subject of my muse appeared in front of me, wand drawn. There was no sound to accompany his apparation.

He immediately caught sight of me and lowered his wand, looking intensely relieved. He began walking towards me, as I had stopped making my way to the inn.

"Harry, we must talk," Dumbledore said simply but firmly.

I immediately noticed his left hand was injured; it was black and burnt-looking. Now didn't seem to be the appropriate time to inquire into his health, so I nodded and followed him into the Leaky Cauldron.

Dumbledore bought a private parlour from Tom with some breakfast, whilst I kept my head down planning what I would say. There wasn't a lot I could say to get out of it. I would just come clean.

I followed Dumbledore into the parlour. Dumbledore shut the door with a flick of his wand and sat down, indicating for me to do the same. I complied, sitting opposite the headmaster who appeared to be deep in thought.

"Harry, I must stress upon you my severe disapproval of your actions today, " Dumbledore began, having snapped out of his reverie, "that said, I have been informed that your cousin did in fact precipitate your action by attacking you first. However, your action was disproportionate to the extreme."

I remained silent; I couldn't think of anything to say that would change the Headmaster's opinion.

"You will be relieved to know, I'm sure, that your cousin has been returned to his proper form and your relatives' memories have been modified...again," He said disapprovingly.

"You will also be pleased to know that the Ministry does not know of what occurred at your relatives' house."

"How do they not know? I used magic, intentionally. They should have detected it like before."

"How they do not know, I am not sure. I have a theory however, which I should like to test. If you will allow me?" Dumbledore asked, indicating his wand.

I nodded. Dumbledore rose and pointed his wand at my head, muttering under his breath. The tip of his wand glowed pale blue and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Most interesting. It would appear that the trace on you has been removed," Dumbledore said, looking pensive.

"What trace, sir"?

"Ah, I apologise Harry. Soon after babies are born to magical parents, a trace is placed upon them by the Ministry which allows them to trace underage magic use. The same happens to Muggleborn children when they are informed about the magical world. The trace should only expire when you become of age, not before. I can only assume that yours was removed by Lord Voldemort. Perhaps he believed it could be used to track your location somehow. I assume you are not aware how your trace has come to be removed?"

"No, sir," I replied honestly, "how did you find me so quickly then, sir? I know the Order must be watching the house, but you found me only a couple of minutes after I arrived here."

"After Miss Tonks entered your relatives' house she discerned from your hysterical aunt and uncle that you had apparated away. She immediately informed me. I first went to the Burrow expected you to have gone there. When you weren't there I came here, judging it to be the next most likely place you would go. It would appear I was correct."

I nodded.

"This does beg the question, however, of _how_ you came to be here Harry. You do not hold an apparation license and nor have you ever learnt how to at Hogwarts. How did you learn?" Dumbledore was peering at me closely now but didn't seem to be using Legilimency.

"I don't know sir. It came instinctively, like I'd always known how to do it."

"Have you ever done it before?" He asked quickly.

"Uh, I did it just after I woke up in that field near that Muggle's house. I apparated across the field when I wasn't really thinking about it."

"What about before then?"

"When I was younger I think I accidently apparated onto a roof. It was just accidental magic, I think."

"Hm. Some people do naturally learn to apparate under stressful circumstances. And the fact that you apparently did it when you were very young leads me to believe that you learned to apparate on your own sometime during your capture. Perhaps it is how you came to escape Lord Voldemort. He would have known that you cannot apparate and perhaps did not have anti-apparation wards up. You may have managed to obtain your wand and simply escaped on your own. Of course, this does not explain how you came to lose your memory."

Dumbledore appeared to stay deep in thought, the tips of his fingers together beneath his chin. I got a closer look at his left hand at this point: the flesh looked _dead_ and rotting.

"Sir? What happens now then?"

"Ah, forgive me. I sometimes become easily distracted. The signs of advanced age, I fear. I would suggest it would be best not to inform the Ministry about the morning's events. With regards to your trace: to coin a muggle expression; I won't tell if you don't," Dumbledore said, smiling.

"Yeah, I don't think it would be good if they found out."

"Excellent. Now that you have left the Dursley's of your own accord, I think it would be acceptable if you were to stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the holidays. However, it would not be fair on Molly for you to intrude with no prior warning. I shall leave you here for the time being. Perhaps Miss Tonks would feel happy to accompany you around Diagon Alley. I will return this evening to accompany you to the Burrow. I think there is a task which you will be of some assistance with before we arrive there."

"Okay then," I said, particularly relieved I wouldn't have to return to the Dursleys. My curiosity got the better of me at this point, "what happened to your hand?"

"That is a most wonderful tale, Harry. I will recount the details of it to you at Hogwarts; it is most deeply intertwined with the things I have to teach you this year. For now, I shall have to be going though. I will ask Miss Tonks to come here post haste to keep you company. I ask that you stay here until she arrives."

I nodded in compliance and Dumbledore walked out of the door as a large plate of bacon, eggs and sausages appeared on the table.

Helping myself to the food, I put my mind to the events of the day. How had I learned to apparate? I'd have to practice it at some point, it wasn't that useful if I could only do it subconsciously without being able to decide on my destination. My apparent lack of a trace could also prove useful. I mentally toyed with the idea of returning to the Dursleys one night and having some fun. I would have to master apparition first however, I didn't think I would _ever_ instinctively apparate to Privet Drive.

"Wotcher, Harry." I was startled out of my thoughts by the arrival of Tonks, sporting her signature bubblegum pink hair.

"Hiya, Tonks. How were the Dursleys?" I asked, smiling.

"Bloody awful! I can understand why you turned that idiot cousin of yours into a pig. I think he was more disgusting in human form to be honest. Not to mention the ability to speak made him infinitely more unpleasant."

"Yeah, sorry about getting you involved in all that."

"It's alright Harry. We all lose our tempers sometime. And you haven't had an easy time of it lately..."

"Hrm. So you memory charmed the Dursleys after you got Dudley fixed up then?"

"Yeah, they don't remember a thing, unfortunately. I think they could do with a bit of a lesson to tell you the truth. It was a nice bit of transfiguration by the way, took like five times for me to undo it. You should have seen the look on your Aunts' face when I told her I was having trouble undoing it."

I genuinely smiled at this. Tonks was right though; it was a shame the Dursleys had their memories whipped.

"So I hear you're on babysitting duty for the day then?"

"Psht. I don't mind spending the day running around Diagon Alley. Beats walking back and forth in front of your house pretending to be a different person every time."

"Fair enough, do you mind if we go to Flourish and Blott's? I want to get a few books"

"Books don't sound like much fun, Harry. I thought you'd be more into the broomstick places," Tonks observed, dryly.

"True, but a few books on curses wouldn't go amiss,"

Tonks laughed, evidently thinking I was joking.

"Sure, we can go in a minute. Do you mind if I finish off your fry up? I haven't had a chance to get breakfast yet."

"Sure."

I watched Tonks hurriedly gobble down the remaining food before following me out the door.

"Now, Harry. Who would you like to be seen accompanying around Diagon Alley? It wouldn't be good if the Auror office found I was escorting you shopping when I was off-duty, especially after what happened at your relatives house."

I shrugged, not particularly caring.

"Well, how about Hermione? She's not too harsh on the eyes, eh?" She said, having morphed her face into that of Hermione's

"Nah, that's alright. Hermione's just a friend" I replied, catching onto her not-so-subtle insinuations.

"Hmm, how about Ginny then? I hear you two are pretty close" She said, winking and sporting said face.

"Nah, I don't really go for redheads."

"Ah, shame. I guess that disqualifies Ron as well then. I know!"

I looked around to see that Tonks had morphed her face into that of Draco Malfoy.

"Yeah, and _that's _discrete," I said sarcastically.

"Alright then, how's Hermione, but just as friends?" She asked, grinning.

"Thats fine, Tonks. Incidentally, I didn't know you could do guy's faces."

"Oh, it's a bit trickier, but it helps if their cheekbones aren't that well pronounced, as in the Malfoy scion's case"

I allowed myself to laugh softly and begun walking to Flourish and Blott's, Tonks at my side.

When we arrived at the shop I immediately bee lined for the Defence Against the Dark Arts section, looking for an anthology of combat spells; I wanted to find out the name of the fire spell I'd used against the Muggle and how I'd known about it. I begun flicking through a book entitled "The Defensive Spell Index- Advanced Edition" with Tonks looking curiously over my shoulder, when I found what I was looking for.

_**Fireburst Curse, The**_

_Type: Offensive, Continuous  
Effect: Directional jet of fire, expansion on impact. Magnitude: 1m-5m spherical, dependent on skill of caster.  
Components: Emotional, Wand Motion.  
Incantation: Restricted by Ministry of Magic. May be non verbal.  
Wand Movement: Restricted by Ministry of Magic.  
Modifications: May be embedded in static wards, has been known to be used non-continuously by experienced users.  
Defences/Counters: Can overpower Type I shields dependent on relative skills of casting, more advanced shields are effective, however flame can seep around shield boundaries. Competently erected physical shields are also sufficient.  
Background: Developed in the 17__th__ Century by Necromancers attempting to control Inferi. Restricted by Ministry of Magic in the 19__th__ Century due to its use on wizards and its relative difficulty in combating. Only Ministry officials are permitted to use this curse and only in circumstances requiring its use, such as fighting dark creatures._

Below the description was a moving photo depicting a dozen or so rotting corpses being pushed back by lines of fire searing from behind the photographer.

My memory of using the spell on the muggle leapt to the front of my mind, I saw the wand movement I'd used, my wand moving in a careful spiral before jutting forward. I tried and failed to remember the words that had roared through my head as the fire had erupted from my wand, pushing the man backwards and exploding in a sphere of flames.

"That's a pretty nasty curse you've got there, Harry. I can show you some way cooler stuff."

I looked up to see Hermione's- no, Tonks'- smiling face and snapped the book but, not wanting to get into a discussion about this particular spell.

"Do you think we could pop into Gringotts, Tonks? I fancy getting this but I've only got Muggle money on me."

"No worries, Harry. I'll cover you for now. I reckon your credit is good, besides, I know where you live," she said grinning.

"Cheers."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of ice cream, banter and stories of using so-and-so curse on so-and-so person, always with hilarious results. I wondered about the times it didn't result in hilarity but didn't ask. By the time Dumbledore appeared to pick me up the sun had begun to set. The mood in the alley had changed from that of a bustling shopping centre into something far more tranquil. Tonks and I had graduated from heaps of ice cream onto coffee and were quietly discussing various spells Tonks knew but one couldn't easily find in any book.

"So, if you get the wand movement just right they'll pretty quickly grow a beard which will inexplicably start trying to strangle them of its own accord. Believe me, guys find it pretty hard to continue spelling whilst fighting off their own facial hair. The best bit is a standard _finite_ won't cancel it unless they apply it to the hair follicles themselves which isn't most people's first-"

"I think that's enough tuition, Nymphadora. I fear Harry is already prodigious enough in a fight without adding your own unique brand of mischief making into the mix," Dumbledore interrupted, his infernal eyes twinkling away.

"Not prodigious enough," I replied, darkly.

Dumbledore looked at me sharply before replying, "I apologise, Harry. It was inconsiderate. If you'll excuse us, Nymphadora, we must be going. I thank you for keep Harry company for the day."

I drained the last of my coffee, nodded at Tonks as I got up to leave and followed Dumbledore towards the Leaky Cauldron. When we were out of earshot Dumbledore slowed down, held out an arm and said "Harry, if you'll grasp my good arm I will side-along apparate us to our destination. I have a small favour of you to ask before we arrive at the Burrow..."

* * *

Appearing with a loud _pop_ I found myself at the border of the Weasley's property. The pale moonlight was washing over the house eerily, making it harder it harder for me to note the boundary line that we had apparated beyond. I wanted to know at what point you were able to apparate out from. I released Dumbledore's arm and followed him as he led me towards the house, walking more slowly than usual.

"Harry, first of all I must thank you for helping to convince Horace that Hogwarts is the best place for him in the current climate. I trust you will find him a most able Professor upon your return to Hogwarts."

"It wasn't really hard. It seems we're not above a little abuse of fame and celebrity to achieve our goals, are we?"

"No, we are not. But it would be wise not to become too fixated on cynicism and bitterness, Harry. Harder challenges are ahead, I'm sure."

I made a noncommittal noise and Dumbledore continued, now barely moving forward at all. "I have some news from the Ministry for you, Harry. It appears that the new Minister would like to 'cozy in with you' already, so to speak. He has organised an award ceremony for you this Christmas where he would like to present you with the Order of Merlin, Third Class. His justification for this is your continued fighting of Dark Wizardry, specifically your encounter with the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries. He also would like to publically renounce the previous administration's attempts to discredit you when you were professing the return of Lord Voldemort. Aside from the obvious political reasoning behind this change in direction, I believe he is genuinely interested in trying to effectively fight Voldemort. I know it is not in your nature to support political manoeuvring of this kind, but I believe for the greater good it would be wise to acquiesce. Will I be able to pass on your acceptance to the new Minister?"

I found my eyes drawn skyward; I looked up into the starry night and gazed at one star in particular. Bright and twinkling rhythmically, I was intrigued.

"Yeah, I don't mind," I replied, still looking up at the stars.

"I must say, Harry, I expected you to object. Thank you for agreeing. I will try to keep the media away from you as much as possible."

I snorted involuntarily. Who was he kidding? There would be no way to keep the media away from the award ceremony for an Order of Merlin.

"Is there something the matter, Harry?"

"No. Not at all. What star is that? Its familiar, but I can't remember what it is," I asked, pointing at the star in question. I was mainly trying to find a way to escape the topic of the conversation. I didn't feel like an argument about the media with Dumbledore. He was all promises, intentions and no substance.

"Ah, let me see. I believe it is no star, Harry, but the planet Saturn. Perhaps you should spend less time sleeping during Astronomy lessons?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Dumbledore had started moving forward to the house now. Reluctantly I followed, still gazing at the star. There was something special about it, but I couldn't put my finger on what.

We reached the door and Dumbledore knocked loudly, the sound penetrating the tranquil silence of the garden. It was answered by Molly Weasley, her face alight with delight upon seeing me.

"Come in, Come in!" She said, inviting me into her home. Her frame was silhouetted by warm candle light coming from the kitchen behind her, accompanied by the enticing smell of a slow cooked roast duck.

I walked across the threshold of the house, into the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was going on about how thin I looked, how she needed to feed me up. I wasn't listening. Dumbledore had started to explain to Mrs Weasley how he must be going, everyone was smiling. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins had come downstairs, alerted by the noise in the kitchen. I answered a few questions about what had happened, evasively. Dumbledore gave me a piercing look before leaving the house via Floo. He was probably wondering why I was being so distant.

"I'm pretty tired, guys. Do you think I could just go up to bed for now?" I asked. I didn't want to stay downstairs answering questions with everyone being so happy, so friendly.

The light dimmed from Mrs Weasleys eyes somewhat, and Ron and Hermione were looking at me strangely. She nodded and told Ron to show me where I was sleeping, as if I hadn't figured it out already. I followed Ron up the stairs and into his bedroom. My trunk from the Dursleys had been moved to the room from someone in the Order. I said goodnight to Ron and lay down on my bed ignoring Ron's puzzlement and pretended to go to sleep. Ron grunted and headed back downstairs, leaving me alone. I pulled out the copy of _The Defensive Spell Index_ and began reading through it in peace.

* * *

I was running, running through a field of wheat. The wheat was cutting into my legs as I ran, my black robes were tattered, torn and bloody. I had my wand but I couldn't use magic on the figure who chased me, nothing happened when I waved my wand. He held a long, curved blade atop a stick. It was a scythe. He was waving it around his head, screaming obscenities at me in a language that I didn't recognise. He could have been death incarnate if not for the deep white robes he wore, trailing along the field behind him as he effortlessly kept pace with me.

I was out of breath and the figure kept closing in. I tripped and fell, and the figure loomed over me. He lifted the scythe and brought it down towards my face. I lifted my arms in front of my face, trying to protect myself. The scythe cut a long line through my right arm causing an eruption of pain and blood. It dribbled with abandon down my arm onto the ground, spreading into a large puddle. All the wheat that my blood came into contact with began rapidly growing, heading for the sky and thickening. The figure didn't raise the scythe again, he seemed satisfied. He watched my blood spread, causing more of the wheat to grow and smiled. He spoke in the unfamiliar language again, calmly this time. The wheat that had started growing receded back into the ground, the blood flowed back into my arm and the wound sealed itself. I looked at my arm in shock. It no longer hurt. The figure looked down at me and spoke once more. The scene repeated itself, over and over. My blood flowed, the wheat grew, the wheat shrunk, my blood returned, ad infinitum.

* * *

A/N: I didn't include the scene with Slughorn as it's pretty unnecessary and I don't feel like repeating scenes with slight modifications for no good reason. I still haven't really got the hang of the whole writing thing, so apologies for the clumsiness. I also need to think up some better chapter titles...


	4. It Landed With a Thud

**Chapter Four: It Landed With a Thud**

"Look into my eyes." I looked up into the blood red eyes and focused, willing myself to see the information contained within.

I was comfortable, sitting on an opulently carved oak chair padded with fine leather. Riddle sat before me on his throne-like seat, looking at me, his long fingers wrapped around the wand in his lap. We were alone together in the cavernous room I recognised from my previous dreams. I had my wand now, but I wasn't afraid. I _wanted_ to be there.

The red in his eyes leapt out towards me, embracing me. It enveloped my vision, transforming into shapes, forms and patterns. I could see a wand, arching through the red ether in a precise pattern. Words were forming in the red hue. I couldn't hear or see the words; I _felt_ them. _Alacritas Sommes. _The words penetrated my mind accompanied by imagery. A decaying corpse rising from a grave, pulling itself from the dirt and shuffling forward, obeying my whim. An Inferus of my own! _Os Estus_. The inferus' rotten eyelids were torn open and his eyeballs bubbled and smoked, melting before me and dribbling down the ruined face. _Solum Frendo._ The ground beneath rose up and encompassed the inferus, dragging him back beneath the dirt and entombing him in his own grave once more. On and on the visions went, more and more spells flashed through my mind becoming part of my awareness. It was all to hazy. I needed to see more; I needed more spells.

"_Enough._" I was shaken out of my vision and felt my body return to the luxurious seat. Riddle's tight mouth tore open in a macabre smile.

"You are learning quickly. Soon you will be ready."

I shook. It wasn't fear. It was an all encompassing loathing. What had I become?

"You shall retire now. Do not leave your quarters until you are summoned."

I wasn't under the Imperius. There was no dreamy floating, no pleasant feeling as I rose from my chair and headed out of the room. My will was my own.

* * *

I awoke in a cold sweat, my sheets moist and my hair clung to my face with damp. I reached for my glasses on the floor beside my bed and pulled them on. The room was dark with a few glimmers of morning light seeping around the curtains. The relative tranquillity of the early morning was breached by loud snoring originating from Ron's bed on the other side of the room, the aforementioned redhead sleeping face to the wall.

I rose from my bed, pulled on a robe and opened the door, careful not to make too much of a noise. I crept down the stairs and into the kitchen and begun making myself breakfast. Alerted by a noise, I look over my shoulder and saw Hermione emerging from the corridor looking at me with concern.

"You're up early," Hermione said, looking like she was stifling a yawn.

"Yeah. Had problems sleeping. What about you?"

"Oh, the same. Thinking about going back to Hogwarts today," she said smiling "You haven't been dreaming about _Him_, are you?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. Just trouble sleeping."

I couldn't tell her what I'd been dreaming about. A part of me knew I should, but I didn't _want _to. I knew what the dreams meant; it was obvious.

"If you _are_ dreaming about him, you can tell me. You know that don't you?"

"Of course," I said, smiling now. She cared too much.

I had cracked open some eggs and had placed them in a pan above a hob. I pulled out my wand and tapped the hob to light it, causing the pan to start spitting and spurting.

"Err Harry, you shouldn't have used your wand like that. I know it probably won't show up as spell-use, but you should be careful. Especially with the Ministry trying to catch you..."

"I wouldn't worry about it. The trace on me was removed back in June."

"What? Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione's voice was rising in both pitch and volume alarmingly.

"I guess it just never came up."

"Harry, you've been here the whole holiday and barely spoken a word to us," Hermione began ranting, the quiet whispering having long since been replaced by a whining screech. "I know you need to time to make sense about what happened to Sirius and to yourself, but talking about it would really make it easier-"

"For who, Hermione? For you? I don't care. Just leave it alone for once, okay?" I was raging at her. Her stupid high pitched squeaking combined with a lack of sleep had shortened my temper.

"I'm sorry. Just... just calm down. You shouldn't get angry. Remember your occulumency."

"I don't need occulumency anymore," I retorted. Who was she to lecture me on losing my temper? She was a slave to her emotions.

"You don't need occulumency anymore?" She asked, quietly now.

"I managed to push Dumbledore out of my mind alright."

"He tried to use Legilimency on you?" The high pitched squeaking was back.

"Yeah. Not really his expected modus operandi, eh?"

"That – That's a bit surprising."

"Uh huh. Fried egg?"

We sat down together and started on breakfast in silence, neither particularly wanting to start a conversation it seemed. Hermione had probably lost some of her faith in the world. It was about time.

"I think I'll go back to bed, Harry. You should probably do the same." Hermione's face was troubled as she got up from the table and began to clear away her plate.

"Maybe. Do you have any books on Apparation?" I asked, out of the blue.

Her dark, foreboding expression was replaced by one of curiosity. "Yeah, I've got a couple. Are you interested in the theory or the practicalities?"

"The practical aspect."

"Well, okay," Hermione said, looking at me a little uncertainly, "hold on, I'll just get one from my room."

After Hermione had retrieved the book and handed it over she wished me good night and headed up the stairs to bed. She was giving me strange looks as she left the kitchen; probably quietly hoping I wasn't going to try and apparate on my own.

I walked out the front door, sat down on the lawn and began flicking through the book under the light of my wand.

* * *

"Harry, dear, you should come in now. We need to make sure everything's packed for the train!" Mrs Weasley's voice shook me out of my rage.

"Coming," I replied wearily. There was a dead gnome at my feet, its head having beenobliterated by a _reductor_ curse I'd fired in anger. The stupid creature had bitten my finger when I was practising apparition. Unfortunately now my face and the front of my robes were liberally coated with gnome goo.

I scourgified my robes and face, vanished the remains of the gnome and begun walking back to the house. I'd managed to get myself apparating around just outside of the Burrow's ward boundaries. It had only taken a few attempts using a mixture of the instructions in the book and my own memory of instinctively doing it. The book didn't mention anything about people picking it up for themselves, even in stressful situations. I found it more likely _someone_ had taught me in my memory gap...perhaps I would dream about it soon. I didn't want to think about who would have taught me. I'd been trying hard not to think about my dreams, they were disturbing and the meaning was all-too-obvious. I didn't want to know what had happened. I felt sick thinking about it.

Upon entering the property I was immediately overwhelmed by the bustle of the kitchen. Wards kept the noise from within from leaving the front door, probably to ensure there could be but a small amount of peace in the garden. Hermione and Ginny were calmly sitting at the table reading the newspaper and eating breakfast respectively. Ginny threw me a glance before turning back to her food. We hadn't really spoken the entire holiday. She probably felt I was torn up about what had happened to Sirius. I hadn't corrected her.

Hermione was too engrossed in the Prophet to notice me walking past and up the stairs to pack my trunk.

* * *

"I don't get why you're being such a prat about this," Ron said loudly, over the chatter of the room.

My grip on the fabric of the chair tightened as I seethed. Ron was looking at me from the opposite side of the compartment with an expression of incredulity, perfectly unaware of the stupidity spouting out of his mouth. The noise in the room lowered as everyone focused on the two of us.

"I'm not restarting the DA because it was _pointless_. What did we achieve? The aim was always to arm ourselves to fight and we were fantastically ineffectual. We were all crap at the Department of Mysteries, and the rest of you wouldn't have been any better had you bothered to turn up."

"Harry, that's not really on, mate. We would have helped if you'd gotten the message out. As far as I heard you didn't even want the others to go with you," Terry retorted. He was standing in front of the compartment door crossing his arms. He was squeezed in with the rest of the DA Ron had managed to rustle up to back up his argument.

"And I was right, wasn't I? More people would have gotten hurt. I'll say it again in case you didn't hear me: we were all crap in a fight."

"Surely that's a reason to train harder then. And besides that our OWL grades were fantastic. Most of us in this room scored 'Outstanding'."

"I have no intention of wasting my time on a homework study group. Hermione. If you want to start one, you're welcome. The DA was about combat. It failed; I'm calling it quits. The rest of you can do what you like."

"We'll do it without you then. I wasn't all for the whole fighting thing anyway, I'd prefer it if it was more academically oriented," Corner suggested.

"We're not starting the DA without Harry. It's his organisation and it always will be."

I seethed again. Ginny's blind faced adoration was wearing thin. "I don't care if you want to start it without me. You're welcome to it."

"Harry-" Hermione tried to intrude.

"No. I've said it. Start the damned club if you want to, I don't give a rat's ass. I'll have no further part of it."

"I think we'll be doing that then, right guys?" Ron said, looking at everyone but me.

The room descended into meaningless chatter once more as the DA started arguing among themselves. I rose from my chair, gently shoved Terry out of the way and left the cabin to find a space for myself.

I sat with my eyes closed, seated between a couple of scared first year boys, trying to remember more of what I'd learned during my dreams. Spells, details of conversations, anything. _Caput Evolvo. _The words flashed through my mind, accompanied by a dizzyingly hazy wand motion. Curl and upward flick. Curl and upward flick. _Caput Evolvo._

I opened my eyes and drew my wand from my robe intending to test the spell on the compartment door. The First Years' eyes widened as I drew my wand but they didn't say anything. Neither were muggleborns; they knew who I was. I wouldn't be interrupted.

Just as I was bringing my wand around in a curling motion the door opened with a click and Hermione's face appeared in the gap.

"There you are. It took me ages to find you. I thought you might like some company?"

"Sure," I replied.

With a look the boy to my left rapidly vacated his seat and ran out the door. Hermione scarcely noticed. She probably had more important things on her mind.

"I convinced the others not to restart the DA without you."

"I wasn't lying when I said I didn't care. Honestly, if you want to keep it going as a homework club I don't mind," I said.

"I know, Harry, but I agree with you. If you think our time could be better spent doing other things to prepare then I'll go along with you."

"Right." I didn't want to argue any further. There could be _no_ preparation. She'd realise soon enough.

Realising that I had nothing further to say on the topic, Hermione pulled a textbook out of her bag and began reading from about halfway through. I glanced at the title, _Tobias' Tremendous Telescopic Treatise_, and snorted.

"Is that an astronomy textbook?" I asked, somewhat in disbelief.

"Yeah," She replied, seeing me looking at the title, "Like the name?"

"Couldn't you have found something with a slightly less stupid title?"

"Oh, no, not really. All the books have names like that. The Magical World seems to have a bit of a thing for alliteration. I think it has something to do with-"

Hermione's explanation for the absurdity of the name would probably never be known as ,at that moment, she was flung from her seat and into the opposite wall. There was a loud screeching noise as the train rapidly decelerated.

I instinctively held myself in my seat with my feet and drew my wand. Adrenaline started coursing its way through my veins.

As soon as the train had fully stopped I walked over to Hermione and checked her. She was still breathing but knocked out cold. There was a large lump forming on her forehead where she had hit the wall. One of the first years had started crying, the other was looking around in shock gabbling. Ignoring them, I walked out the door and into the corridor. Pandemonium reigned.

"Harry! What're you going to do?" Ron had found me pretty much immediately, the tall bugger.

"I was planning to find out why the train had stopped and-"

"Everyone's saying there are Death Eaters Harry! Apparently they felled a tree on the tracks. There were five Aurors on the train up front according to Dean. They're holding off the Death Eaters until reinforcements can come. We're meant to seal the doors and keep everyone inside."

"How many Death Eaters?"

"I don't know. Dean said there were about fifteen but he didn't get a good look."

"I'm going to help," I said automatically.

"We're coming to. The DA can help," a girl's voice said.

I looked up and saw Ginny and Neville standing behind Ron being bustled by the panicking masses. "Whatever. I'm going to help," I said as I walked past the group towards the nearest exit.

Bright flashes of light came through the window of the door I approached. I glanced outside and saw a group of Aurors, back-to-back not ten meters away, trying to keep figures in black cloaks from getting near the train. There were, as Ron said, only about fifteen Death Eaters, but it was more than enough. In front of my eyes, two Aurors fell. One to the sickly green light of the Killing Curse, the second simply hurled through the air.

I tried to yank open the door but it wouldn't budge. It was spelled shut. I blasted the door off its hinges and jumped onto the ground. I was immediately assaulted with a half dozen curses. I threw myself to the left to avoid them and landed badly, cutting my arm on a loose rock.

I angrily rose to my feet, feeling magic help push me up. Two Death Eaters turned away from the remaining Aurors and began walking in my direction, firing off spells rapidly.

I pulled my wand towards me as a cutting curse approached, 'captured' it using a subtle twist and redirected it back by swinging my wand back in the direction of the caster. I could feel the Death Eater's intent in the spell at the moment it had been cast, I could overwhelm it. It was a subtle mixture of wand movement, intent and emotion which normally only those practised in dueling could master, but I knew how. It was instinctive; I'd been taught.

I dodged, dived and deflected about five spells back at the Death Eaters before one of them realised what I was doing. He started focusing on his spells, watching and concentrating on them as they approached me. I couldn't redirect them back. I dodged to the side and erected a shield as I ran. Spells smashed into it, lighting up the area around me and slowly buckling the shield. Magical residue was dripping off what remained of my shield like brightly glowing fluid, singing the grass as it landed.

"Stupefy!"

"Incarcerous!"

"Impedimenta!"

I looked up and saw Hermione, Ron and Neville walking through the remains of the train door, loudly incanting spells and waving their wands wildly. It was amateurish, but it distracted the Death Eaters.

_Caput Evolvo_. Curl and flick. The memory assaulted me, this time though he haze had left. The movements were clear and the words sharp. I turned back in the direction of the Death Eaters, pointed my wand at the one nearest me and began the incantation.

_Caput. _I curled my wand. I felt a pressure building on the wand, I could _feel_ it gripping something, pulling. I could control it, manipulate it. The world slowed down as I _gripped_ the magic. The Death Eater I was spelling turned at me, his eyes alight in horror and his neck taught. I pulled. Blood began dripping out of his mouth, contrasting macabrely against his white mask. He started raising his wand. It moved painfully slowly, itching upwards. His mouth was trying to form words even as the blood escaped his lips, slowly dripping down his mask and through the air.

_Evolvo._ I flicked, upwards and toward the sky. The Death Eater's hand jerked and his eyes widened again. More blood escaped from his mouth. I felt resistance as my wand flicked upward terrifically slowly. I pulled harder, willing it to move upwards. I noticed Ron looking at me curiously out of the corner of my eye. I finally overpowered the resistance in my wand andit moved like lightning_. _There was a stunted cracking noise, like a gun being fired into the ground, and the Death Eater's head flew off his shoulders trailing part of his spine. Blood erupted from the remains of his neck as the flesh was torn away and the body fell to the ground forwards, lifeless.

The head landed with a thud in front of me. The bloody mask fell onto the dirt.

The world sped up again. The sounds of screaming and crying erupted around me. Hermione was on the floor screaming and twitching, held under the Cruciatus curse. Neville was desperately trying to shield himself, backtracking toward the train. Terry, Michael and Ginny were firing spells ineffectually from the train door. The Aurors had all been incapacitated. The Death Eater I'd killed was the only one they'd lost. Ron was looking at me in shock, oblivious to the carnage around him.

My left shoulder erupted in pain as a slicing curse carved into it during my distraction. I turned back, seeing red. It didn't hurt. It was _humiliating_. I ran forward towards the Death Eaters, deflecting spells back at them, shielding when I couldn't and dodging what I couldn't shield. My memory had clarity now. I wanted them dead and buried. I didn't care in which order.

_Solum. _I twisted my wand, instinctively. The twist was subtly different to before, but it made sense. I wanted the ground, I wanted the earth. I had to ask it. It understood. Again I felt it, I had it. I lifted it up, pulling and willing it. A patch of ground half-way between me and a trio of Death Eaters ahead of me began to ripple. Waves began spreading outward from the point I was concentrating on. I was still running forward, dodging spells which were coming towards me. I could feel the spells coming before they got there, they were moving so slowly. I could feel _everything_. The surface of the ground I was pointing at broke and dirt began rushing upwards. Tonnes of it. It formed a massive wall in front of me, impossibly high and dense. The Death Eaters tried desperately blasting at it. It worked but it made no difference; the gaps were filled by more dirt faster than they could blast away at it.

_Frendo. _I pushed it downward onto them. It fell faster than gravity would have caused, rushing downward inevitably. One of the Death Eaters raised a shield. The dirt shattered through and engulfed them. I pushed it down with all my will, squeezing. I gave in when I sensed it couldn't be squeezed any further.

I surveyed my creation: a compressed mound of dirt 10 feet high, as hard as stone. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins, my heart was racing. I felt so alive. It was better than flying, better than _anything_. I felt dizzy from it, I wanted more.

I turned back towards the train, idly deflecting a spell with a small flick. It was all so _easy_. The DA were nowhere in sight. The Death Eaters were all _mine_.

I heard a soft pop. I felt another head rush and raised my wand. There was more I could control. Would I bury them? Detach their skulls from their necks? Pull their hearts from their chests? I could do _anything_.

_Clap...Clap...Clap_

I turned in the direction the pop had come from. He was clapping slowly, sarcastically. He wore no mask and was wearing robes of the finest cut, trimmed in silver. There wasn't a speck of dirt on him.

Riddle.

* * *

**A/N**

Not exactly one update a week. Oh well. Got a bit stuck writing this, next chapter should be quicker to write.


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